


Ask Me Now

by SteelLily



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelLily/pseuds/SteelLily
Summary: Set very soon after the end of season 1. Raffi and Seven begin to get to know one another.
Relationships: Raffi Musiker/Seven of Nine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Ask Me Now

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a song by Thelonius Monk.

“Jazz is chaos constrained. It’s math with emotion,” Raffi smiled at her explanation.

Seven raised her eyebrow. “And how exactly does that answer my question?”

Raffi frowned and squinted at Seven who stood waiting patiently with her hands behind her back. Raffi’s mouth opened and closed several times. Seven cleared her throat to wipe the grin from her face. “I asked who you were listening to.”

Raffi’s cheeks darkened, “Right,” she sat the datapad down on the bed next to her. “Thelonius Monk. I’m so sorry.”

Seven inclined her head and clasped her hands loosely in front of her. “Far worse presumptions have been made about me. Not knowing jazz as a musical genre is by far the most innocuous.”

Raffi’s room was sparse. Seven was surprised to find the room to be so well organized. Raffi’s desk only had three datapads on top of it. All lined up in a precise row. “Do you play any instruments?” Seven asked in, what she hoped, was her standard aloof tone.

When she looked back at Raffi, she feared that she had spoken out of place. Seven straightened, “I apologize. I intruded. Excuse me.”

Raffi was off the bed and at Seven’s side before she could reach the door. “Nope. No,” Raffi tentatively touched Seven’s wrist just to halt her movement. When Seven turned her head to look at Raffi, she continued, “Please, come in. Have a seat. I could use a break.”

The smile Raffi wore made Seven’s brain swim. She nodded almost imperceptibly and walked back toward the center of the room. Raffi motioned toward the small couch. Seven perched gingerly on the far edge of the couch. Her posture was so stiff. Raffi, by contrast, leaned back on the other end of the couch and angled her body so that she was facing Seven’s profile. Seven forced herself to cross her legs and turn partway toward Raffi. She wrapped her hands around her knee in what, she hoped, was a somewhat relaxed position. Raffi smiled and tried not to laugh. “I don’t bite,” she teased.

Seven blushed. “I have become unaccustomed in recent years to strictly social situations,” she rolled her eyes at herself, “Not that I was ever what one could call proficient at them when I practiced regularly.”

Raffi nodded with that small smile still gracing her lips. It made Seven warm unexpectedly. Raffi spread her arms out in front of her, “Contrary to my name, I don’t play any instruments. I wanted to learn upright bass at one point in my life, but I never followed through.”

“A shame. I suspect you would excel given your aptitude at solving the unsolvable,” Seven purposely leaned back against the high arm of the couch so she could still face Raffi.

“What about you?”

Seven closed her eyes and smiled uncomfortably, “I do not play any instruments, no.”

Raffi squinted at Seven’s choice in words. A broad smile broke across Raffi’s face as she deciphered that which was behind the words, “You sing?” she asked.

Seven sighed, “Not in many years.”

Raffi, while nowhere near a Betazoid, could feel the unease coming off Seven. Raffi made a cross over her heart, “I’ll take it to my grave.”

Seven smiled, a reaction that was becoming commonplace with the small human across from her, “Thank you.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Raffi offered suddenly.

Seven watched Raffi hurry over to her personal replicator. “I should add,” Raffi continued, “That if you want synthehol, you’ll need to order it yourself.”

Seven raised her ocular implant. Then simply nodded, “I would enjoy a cup of black coffee, thank you.”

Raffi nodded and turned to the replicator. She asked for Seven’s request. After handing the steaming mug to Seven, Raffi returned and replicated herself a coffee with enough cream to turn the drink a pale brown. Raffi cradled the mug and inhaled the steam with her eyes closed. Seven watched with a small smile on her face. Before Raffi opened her eyes again, Seven was looking at her own mug on her lap and chastising herself silently.

The sound of Raffi sitting her mug on the small glass coffee table drew Seven’s attention away from her lap. When Seven looked up at Raffi, she found her nodding absently. Seven suddenly felt as if she was being scrutinized. She straightened instinctively and threw up her defensiveness. Raffi grimaced and reached out toward Seven before quickly pulling her hands back away. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about all the thousands of things I’d like to ask you.”

Hackles raised, Seven fought disgust off her face. “I do not wish to discuss my implants or other enhancements the Borg may or may not have done to me. Most of that is public—to Starfleet—data that you can peruse without my assistance.”

“I—what?” Raffi shook her head. “Oh shit, Seven,” Raffi leaned forward instinctively again, this time letting her hand fall on Seven’s wrist, “I meant about your work with the Fenris Rangers. You hear stories out here, but you can’t really believe everything. Some of the tales I’ve encountered about you are epic even by ‘I was Jean-Luc Picard’s first officer’ standards. And that’s a high bar.”

Seven relaxed. The soft circles that Raffi traced on the inside of her unenhanced wrist nearly short-circuited her brain. Seven chuckled, “I often don’t recognize myself in the stories by the time they reach me. I can’t fathom what inaccuracies are being told about the big, bad xB.”

Raffi waved the backhanded insult away. The coldness left on Seven’s skin at the loss of contact nearly made her roll her eyes at herself. Raffi replied, “You’re a legend. I’d be lying if I tried to pretend I don’t have questions about the Borg piece of things, but even without all that, the good you’ve done helping people out beyond the reach of Starfleet is amazing.”

Seven looked away from Raffi’s kind face and down at the dark liquid in her lap. She looked back up when Raffi resumed talking, “I lost myself when I left Starfleet. You seem like you found more of yourself when you left,” Raffi swiped at a tear that slid down her cheek, “In fairness, I suppose I was losing myself well before I actually left Starfleet.”

Seven’s thumb wiped away the next tear that fell. Her hand remained firmly on Raffi’s cheek like an anchor in a port that threatened to pull Raffi out to sea. Raffi looked up at Seven who no longer held her coffee and had moved closer to her. “I see,” Seven started, “someone who has picked herself up and remade herself. I see brilliance and beauty and complexity that one should count themselves lucky to be allowed to witness.”

Raffi chuckled, “Thank you.”

Seven reluctantly pulled her hand away. She mused to herself at her uncharacteristic behavior. “You seem to bring out parts of me, that I did not realize still existed, Raffaela Musiker.”

The breath that caught in Raffi’s chest at her full name out of Seven’s mouth left Raffi reeling. She wished she had a clever or flirtatious reply. Raffi’s brain held little more in that moment, than wonderings as to what it would feel like to kiss Seven. Raffi felt herself staring at Seven’s lips. Her hands ached to reach out and make some kind of physical connection with the woman across from her. Electricity pulsed between them and Raffi wondered whether she was the only one who felt it. The door chimed. Both Raffi and Seven jolted backwards. Raffi’s hand went to her hair. Seven moved back to the far end of the couch which seemed incredibly small to her. Raffi shook her head, “Come in.”

The door slid open and Elnor stepped inside. Seven took a long drink of her coffee. Raffi clasped her hands on her lap and forced a smile at Elnor. “Hey, kid.”

“I’m sorry,” Elnor started, looking between the women, “I was told Seven was here. I didn’t mean to interrupt—.”

Seven shook her head and coughed from the coffee she just swallowed. When she recovered, she asked, “What do you need Elnor?”

Elnor quickly moved on from whatever he thought he witnessed which made Seven relax. “Well,” he began, “I’ve finally had a moment to read through your Starfleet file. I see that you are adept at more than one martial arts style—.”

The door chimed again while Elnor was midsentence. Raffi rubbed her hands over her face. “It’s a zoo,” she whispered presumably so that Seven would not hear, though she did. Raffi continued louder, “Come on in.”

The door opened and Rios grabbed Elnor by the shoulder, “Now’s not the time, kid.”

Raffi’s face darkened and her eyes widened. Rios winked at Raffi, “Sorry ladies, whatever the kid needs can wait,” he glared at Elnor, “Right, kid?”

“Technically, yes, but practically, it would be wise to gain whatever skills I can as soon as possible, lest we be unprepared for the next fight that finds us,” Elnor replied, “And fights find us with regularity, Rios. I would think you would want us to be as…wait, I did interrupt an intimate encounter?”

Seven held her breath. Raffi’s mouth opened and closed feebly. “No, Elnor,” Seven finally stated.

Elnor nodded. Rios watched Raffi deflate. Rios patted Elnor on the shoulder, “Still, let’s let them chat in peace.”

Seven stood after the door closed behind the two men. “Elnor is right, if there is something that I can teach him, I probably should. Thank you,” Seven turned her face in profile toward Raffi, “For the coffee and conversation.”

Raffi stood and moved close enough into Seven’s space that it made her stomach lurch pleasantly. Seven looked down at Raffi who planted herself directly between Seven and the door. “Can I make you dinner tonight?”

Seven felt the smile that returned to her lips. “That would be enjoyable.”

“Seven?”

Seven raised her eyebrows in anticipation. Raffi laughed, “Sorry, I meant as the time.”

“Oh,” Seven blushed, “Yes. Here?”

Raffi shrugged, “Yeah. Any foods you dislike?”

Seven huffed, “I never acquired much taste for food. The list of foods I like is far shorter than the list of foods I dislike.”

“Hmm,” Raffi considered, “Challenge accepted.”  
__________

The first thing that Elnor wanted to learn was Tsunkatse. “Elnor, there are other martial arts with far better applications than Tsunkatse,” Seven replied.

“Yes, but you are the only person in Alpha Quadrant with this training. The novelty could give us an advantage over a foe otherwise versed in more popular Alpha Quadrant styles of fighting,” Elnor replied.

Seven’s reluctance faded and she acquiesced. Seven meticulously recreated the Tsunkatse fighting ring from her memory in La Sirena’s second holosuite with the unpleasant help from the ship’s Emergency Hospitality Hologram. She shook herself once the room was complete. That man knew no personal space boundaries and it left Seven looking forward to a fight.

Elnor was a quick study. She was pleased that the young man was able to keep up and easily mastered the basics of combat within an hour. Seven decided that an actual sparring match would give her the data she needed to determine the next training lessons. She laid out the parameters of the fight with Elnor before placing her jacket on the ground outside the ring.

Raffi busied herself over the only stove on the ship, in the crew mess. A large pot bubbled gently. The smell of spices flooded the ship, drawing the whole crew, save Seven and Elnor at various points to inquire about what she was making. The first was Soji. Initially Raffi was only going to make enough food for herself and Seven. By the time even JL had made his way to the mess, Raffi realized the error in her reasoning and replicated enough rations for the whole crew to partake in her great grandmother’s secret gumbo recipe.

About an hour and a half before she was due in Raffi’s quarters, Seven emerged from the holosuite with Elnor. Elnor slumped, holding his side. Seven half carried him down the stairs leading to the medbay. Seven looked chagrined as Emil, the Emergency Medical Hologram, gave Elnor a hypospray. Raffi wiped her hands on a towel before tossing it over her shoulder. She walked toward the medbay. “You guys okay?” she asked.

Seven startled. Elnor smiled broadly at Raffi. Blood dripped from a cut above his eyebrow. “I am perfect. Seven is a formidable opponent. I learned so much.”

Seven exhaled unevenly. She wrapped her hands tightly around her middle. Raffi squeezed Elnor’s shoulder. She moved to stand next to Seven, “Are you okay?”

“I got distracted and did not pull a punch the way I should have. It was a miscalculation that should have never occurred,” Seven sighed, “I could have killed him.”

The way Seven said the word distracted made Raffi grimace. Elnor hopped off the table when Emil finished with him. He whipped around happily to Seven and exclaimed, “I look forward to our next lesson,” then he climbed the stairs two at a time and made off toward his room.

Emil turned to Seven, “Do you also have injuries that require assistance?” he asked, reaching for her hands.

Seven pulled back, “I am fine, Doctor.”

Emil and Raffi watched Seven exit the medbay. She sighed. Emil tisked. “She should’ve let me have a look at her hand. Check it later if she will let you?” he added before deactivating his program.

Raffi returned to the pot of food simmering on the stove. She wondered if Seven would cancel on her. Rios came down the stairs with Agnes. Raffi forced herself to smile, “Gumbo’s ready whenever you are. I’m gonna change. Don’t,” she pointed at Rios, “Eat it all. I expect to have food when I get back.”

Rios raised his hands in front of him, “Hey, I don’t know why you’re accusing me.”

“Just, please make sure there’s at least two bowls left, Cris,” Raffi added quietly to Rios who pulled away from Agnes’ side.

“If he doesn’t, I will,” Agnes promised.

“Thank you,” Raffi replied.  
__________

Raffi looked down at the small dining table in her room. It was big enough to fit two seats facing each other. She chewed on her thumbnail wondering if the lavender flowers she replicated were too much. She sat down to test conversation. She gestured toward where Seven would sit and could not see around the flowers. Raffi removed the small vase and sat it on her desk next to her datapads.

It was ten minutes until Seven was supposed to arrive. She had not seen her when she came back out to collect their food from the stove. Raffi blew out a breath and retreated to the bathroom. She checked her loosely braided hair in the mirror. The plait sat over one shoulder. She wore a soft yellow oversized cardigan over a fitted white camisole and black slacks. The cardigan picked up the blonde in her hair and the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. It was her favorite cardigan. It gave her skin a warm, rich glow. She swiped a small amount of blush on her cheeks then applied a shiny gloss to her lips.

Anxiety jangled around in her chest. She watched herself chew on the side of her thumbnail in the mirror. She sighed with disgust and washed her hands quickly. The door chimed as she finished. Raffi looked at her reflection in the mirror hoping to impart some final wisdom to herself, only able to come up with a weak, “Don’t blow it.”

In her small living space, Raffi said, “Come in.”

The door whooshed open. Seven walked in with her hands clasped behind her back. She wore a robin’s egg blue sweater that looked suspiciously like the one Agnes liked to wear. “Nice sweater,” Raffi smiled.

Seven blushed and stood straighter. “Dr. Jurati has implied on more than one occasion that the color would suit me.”

“She’s right,” Raffi agreed.

The smile Raffi beamed at her made Seven reflexively smile and look away. It was adorable in such a way that Raffi nearly laughed. She controlled herself, however, and motioned toward the table, “Please, have a seat.”

Seven pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. She unfolded the napkin and placed it in her lap. Raffi did the same. Her cardigan slipped off her shoulder from the movement. Seven watched as she pulled the soft looking fabric back up over her shoulder. “You look beautiful,” Seven cleared her throat and glanced down at the bowl in front of her, “This smells delicious.”

Raffi beamed. “Thank you. On both counts.”

Seven reached for the glass of wine sitting in front of her. Seven sipped the red liquid. Her eyes widened, “It’s not synthehol.”

Raffi swallowed the sip of water she took from her glass then shook her head, “It’s from JL’s vineyard. He gifted us all a few bottles when he came aboard the ship. I had forgotten I still had a bottle,” Raffi laughed, “The man makes an excellent wine.”

Seven took another sip. Raffi tried not to watch, instead opting for a bite of the gumbo. “I hope you like spicy,” she said with a hand over her mouth.

“As I said before, I never really developed a taste for many foods,” Seven offered again.

“I’ll try not to be offended.”

Raffi winked and continued eating. When Seven picked up her spoon with her other hand, Raffi nearly choked. “Your hand!” she exclaimed.

Before Seven had time to react, Raffi was up out of her chair and leading Seven by the arm to her bathroom. “This is unnecessary,” Seven tried.

“You need stitches, Seven,” Raffi fretted.

“What I need,” Seven pulled her hand away gently, “Is another hour and my nanoprobes will heal this damage.”

Raffi searched Seven’s eyes. She saw a mix of annoyance and appreciation there. Raffi nodded, “I’m sorry.”

Seven reached out and squeezed Raffi’s hand. “I appreciate—though am unused to—such concern.”

Raffi’s stomach did a flip flop at the callous rough touch of Seven’s fingertips against her skin. “Well,” Raffi started, her voice rough with feeling, “I guess you’ll have to just get used to it,” she cleared her throat, “We are an overly caring bunch. Some of us just hide it under layers of sarcasm or substances.”

Seven’s smile sent a thrill through Raffi’s body. She felt goosebumps prickle along her skin. “Shall we?” Seven motioned back toward the living room.

Raffi stepped aside to let Seven pass and give herself a moment. She exhaled after Seven sat down at the table. She motioned minutely with her hands, waving away her nerves. “She’s just a beautiful woman, Raff,” she whispered.

Seven tried hard not to listen. Her enhanced hearing was a blessing and a curse. Seven rolled her eyes at herself. She smiled apologetically when Raffi sat back down across from her. “I should tell you something,” Seven sat her forearms against the edge of the table and folded her hands together. When Raffi raised her eyebrows, Seven continued, “I have enhanced hearing. I try not to eavesdrop but,” Seven unfolded her hands and gestured.

“Ah,” Raffi nodded, “So, you heard just now?”

Seven grimaced, “Yeah.”

“Well, I stand by my statement.”

Seven held Raffi’s gaze for a long moment. Whatever awkwardness was there before melted away. Dinner was filled with laughter and free flowing conversation. Raffi felt a lightness that was normally reserved for the initial mellowness of intoxication. When Seven stood up to leave, Raffi fought the desire to ask her to stay. She had not felt the pull to another person in this way in so long. She did not want it to end. Raffi rose from her place on the couch to walk with Seven the short distance to her door. It was entirely unnecessary. She knew it but Raffi was thinking very loudly about how to go about asking to do this again. She felt like a teenager. It was embarrassing. “Raffi,” Seven interrupted the swirling thoughts in Raffi’s mind.

“Hmm,” Raffi looked up at Seven who was standing near enough to Raffi that she could smell the soft perfume on Seven’s skin. It was like an evergreen forest in winter. Raffi felt a brush of lips against her cheek. She blinked, angry with herself for not being fully present in the moment.

Seven smiled at the effect she had on Raffi, “May I take you on a holo-date tomorrow evening?”

Raffi’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. She stammered, “Y—I—we—,” Raffi cleared her throat, “I’d like that.”

Seven smirked in a way that made the small hairs on the back of Raffi’s neck stand. “Tomorrow then, same time,” Seven confirmed.

The door closed behind Seven leaving Raffi alone in her quarters, smiling. She put her sleeve covered hand over her lips to try and wipe away a grin that would not budge.


End file.
